


peaceful can be a lot of things (and i think it's you)

by aortaxx



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Established Relationship, Fluff, M/M, Post-Endgame, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Wong (mentioned) - Freeform, at least kinda touched on, but it's not that bad luckily, kinda mild angst? idk, mostly fluffy domestic shit though, they deserve Peace thanks, thus also kinda Comfort???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-12
Updated: 2019-05-12
Packaged: 2020-03-01 16:04:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,692
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18803650
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aortaxx/pseuds/aortaxx
Summary: minor spoilers for endgame? but also not really? just a domestic morning after the events of endgame and p much ignoring its ending in which tony is awoken by a dream about death, but not in a way one would think





	peaceful can be a lot of things (and i think it's you)

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first piece of fanfiction i've written in a long time and these two have really grown on me after infinity war already, thus this pointless little drabble! i hope you enjoy it and feel free to leave a prompt request for ironstrange in the comments <3 (+ song recommendation is veins by lil peep for the vibes)

A knot in the tongue, pushed to the back as to snuff out all attempts of coherent speak. Even if he could speak, who could hear him? There’s a mute kind of hum, a sound you could only comprehend if you’ve heard it yourself before. Time seems like a foreign concept, even as Tony tried to count the passing seconds, they slipped from him into a far-off light. The metal is cold against his back as he stares into the infinity only the vast space could offer, cold and the only thing reminding him that he is not floating peacefully into another existence. Food has run out and so has his hope, a sun tuned down into a white dwarf: a former prodigy.

He can feel that his eyes would slip closed soon, that he would lose feeling in his hands and eventually, sleep would come to him. In a way, he hopes that there is no paradise waiting for him after death. He rejects the mere idea of existing now, especially once he has come to know just how much of a burden and suffering merely living could be.

Instead he wishes for a dreamless sleep, just in time for even the light of the numerous suns illuminating the infinite width of the universe to disappear as his own eyes draw their lids closed…

“Tony?”

He wants to curse inwardly. This is just like when you try to fall asleep and you’re on the verge of it and your phone rings to draw you back.

“Tony, your phone has been ringing for the last thirty minutes and it’s annoying beyond words.”

His eyelids do finally flutter open and instead of seeing colourless space with a couple of lit suns, he sees a raised eyebrow and a very familiar face sitting on the edge of a bed that was not his own.

“Hhh…”

A sound escapes him, classified as a wheeze if he had more energy maybe. All that gets him is a pair of rolled eyes and his phone making a dull sound as it’s thrown against his bare biceps, the vibration only dully noted. Tony blinks and it feels unreal even as he gathers enough strength to take his phone and bring it up to read the messages, most from Pepper and a couple from Bruce. But instead he puts it down again, rubbing his eyes agonizingly long before the other clears his throat.

“Are you not going to answer?”

“I… dreamt I was _dying_ , Stephen.”

He still has his hands balled over his eyes, but he’s not crying. Dying felt so peaceful and fear had not been even a fleeting thought. He hears Stephen put down his mug (probably tea as usual) and the rustle of sheets. Finally he takes the ball of his hands off his eyes, small spots still blurring his vision, but he can just about make out Stephen’s face, seeming fairly unimpressed with his bold statement.

“On the spaceship?”

Sometimes he forgets that Stephen had seen all of his futures before the snap: it is almost as uncomfortable as it sounds and yet it takes away this horrible burden of having to spell it out for him and for that, Tony could find it within himself to be grateful.

“Mhm.”

He turns over, lays on his stomach, face mushed into the pillow. It sounds silly now, as he grasps the sheets and realizes how safe and alive he is. Again, the sheets rustle and now Tony can feel the weight press the mattress down next to him. He turns his head to see the sorcerer sitting next to him on the bed, still eyeing him almost warily, inciting a groan from Tony as he rolls over one more time, this time with more force and manages to land his chin on Stephen’s thigh.

“Did you make some tea for me too, at least?”

“You hate Wong’s tea, Tony.”

A feeble attempt to change the conversation topic, but before he could think of another, a hand finds its way into Tony’s hair, mussing through the already quite messy strands sticking away as he groans again, but does not protest. There is a sense of comfort in the touch, as his mother used to do when he had silly nightmares of imaginary demons and ghosts. Funnily enough, they were now realer than ever.

“Did you make coffee for me then?”

Stephen looks him over now, hands slowing their work in his hair while Tony stares him down in return, another attempt to make his statement unsaid.

“Are you not going to elaborate?”

It’s just so _Stephen_ to not let this moment slip by and Tony looks to the side, at the wooden wall that wasn’t even decorated. He still feels tired and not so much like talking and so he mumbles into the fabric of the other’s pants instead, still trying to get the last bit of sleep out of his system.

“It wasn’t even that bad, honestly.”

“I feel like you would say that about everything that could possibly happen.”

“Not everything. Like… ‘not being able to eat a cheeseburger again, that’d be the _worst_.”

He can feel a bit of tension leave the muscles in Stephen’s leg, which he was resting on and keeps his smile to himself. There’s still a sense of _unreality_ to this, but he ignores it as he tilts his head back up, stares right into the sorcerer’s eyes, hands stilling in his hair.

“You’re incredibly weird, you know that?”

“Well, at least I’m not _strange_ , right?”

 _Now_ he sees the corners of Stephen’s lips tilt up just the tiniest bit and it warms him in ways that made this feel a little more real, left his nerves fizzing at their ends.

“You could kiss me just so I can be sure that I’m actually alive, actually.”

“… Maybe after you brush your teeth, Stark.”

This time it’s Tony who raises his eyebrow, finding the sense to push himself up on his hands and drawing his knees under him, deciding that if Stephen was going to be petty, he would just take what he wants, like always. And to no one’s surprise, Stephen didn’t resist when Tony did press their lips together, tasting the lingering taste of spice from that awful tea he couldn’t stomach, but like this? Tony could honestly taste it forever.

“It was peaceful. Just like right now.”

“So kissing me is like dying to you?”

The sorcerer is still smiling a bit as he says it and so Tony just rolls his eyes again, nuzzling his nose into the crook of Stephen’s neck and shoulder, finding the scent of the cologne he gave to Stephen as a gift a long time ago with fondness.

“Kissing can also be less peaceful if you want it to be?”

Stephen makes a low sound again as he shrugs Tony off, letting the engineer fall back against the pillows one more time, obviously concluding that he was his usual self. Tony just smiles, because getting on Stephen’s nerves was almost as good as kissing him. But only _almost_.

“Just answer your phone already. People are waiting on you.”

He makes this out to be Stephen’s way to tell him that there are people who know he is alive and need him in one way or another, but instead he tilts his chin up to the other, who has now gotten up and grabbed his mug again.

“Aren’t you waiting on me, too?”

He sees the twinkle in Stephen’s eye as their gazes meet again and he _knows_ that he dug his own grave now.

“I have you in my bed, don’t I? I think that counts for something at least.”

Tony just groans once more, rubbing his eyes again as he hears the other chuckle. He couldn’t really defy that statement, not when he was peacefully nestled between so many pillows that Stephen brought here specifically at Tony’s request. So instead he just keeps lying there in an attempt to make it seem like the other had never said anything at all.

“Just come downstairs when you’re done. Wong might make some coffee if you ask nicely.”

“Won’t you carry me? I’m _so_ tired.”

Now Stephen stares at him as if he just asked the most ridiculous question and he looked as if he was on the verge of just denying him flat-out, but then he reconsiders for a moment.

“If you’re _this_ tired, then just sleep some more.”

That sounds incredibly inviting and the pillows behind his back only make it so much more tempting, but these days, sleeping on his own had become less and less calming. He can sense that Stephen is probably meant to be elsewhere, but even heroes are allowed to be selfish every once in a while, right?

“Why not join me, then? You look like you missed out on quite a lot of your beauty sleep, you know?”

Stephen knows it’s a charade, he always does. That doesn’t make his protests any less frequent or sharp, ever-so responsible.

“I have work to do.”

“Like what, read books? You can do that here just fine.”

The fact that he lets his voice be a bit weaker than it normally is might have helped in this moment, because Stephen doesn’t even roll his eyes as he conjures up a circle to grab the books Tony _knew_ he just wanted to read. Tony moves to his side of the bed as the sorcerer lays down next to him and takes up the first book while Tony cuddles a bit closer under the covers.

“Just sleep and don’t be insufferable or I _will_ leave.”

Tony nods weakly against Stephen’s side as he immediately stars to drift off again, but it’s different this time. It was peaceful too, but this time his mind was less empty, buzzing with much more entertaining ideas for dreams than death, only supported by the fuzzy feeling running through his body as he feels a gentle hand in his hair again, causing him to smile into the pillow right before falling into a pleasant slumber.

**Author's Note:**

> my tumblr is @aortaxx if you wanna follow me/send me a request!


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